"Indeed," said the author, coldly.
"And a pippin she is too! Talk about clever, Charlie! By Jove, there's a girl that makes a fellow use his cocoa all the time, let me tell you!"
Charles sat down heavily at his writing-table, and lit a cigarette. Mary Wing managed her affairs well, indeed. He spoke with mysterious bitterness:—
"You are blossoming out! If anybody'd told me last year that you'd be praising one of the new highbrow sisters, I'd have kicked him downstairs for a liar."
"When a girl can look like that, my boy—"
"Developing into a regular man-flirt too, aren't you? Last I heard of you, you were driving up Washington Street with Miss Flower."
Instead of resenting the odious epithet, Donald's face was seen to assume a pleased smirk.
"Ho!—had your spies on me, have you? Why, did we pass you to-day?"